


afternoon’s egg

by mochacreams



Series: for jupiter, with love (♃) [4]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Domestic, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Gen, Interlude, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, On the Run, Short One Shot, post-MGS2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27375913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochacreams/pseuds/mochacreams
Summary: baby sunny comes to them during the summer, obviously
Relationships: Otacon & Solid Snake, Otacon/Solid Snake
Series: for jupiter, with love (♃) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1897660
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35





	afternoon’s egg

**Author's Note:**

> good morning mgs fandom, this november i offer you tender jupiter family moments. next month? who knows.......
> 
> this is kinda short cause it was supposed to be part of a few other vignette chapters, but well i figure i should post this anyway. if i end up finishing the rest, then i’ll add them, but for now i think this can stand on its own.

“You know, I think she has your smile.”

What a smartass—but if there’s one thing Otacon knows about Snake, it’s that there’s always a shred of truth in what he says. (What he believes to be true, anyways.)

“You think so?” Otacon still asks earnestly—yet not without a gentle eye-roll—because he honestly can’t remember the last time he’s seen himself smile in the mirror. It’s probably been a long while since he’s looked too hard in the mirror, either. 

“Yeah. Thank God she didn’t take after Jack’s shit-eating grin.”

Otacon snorts at that. He’s cradling the little baby girl in his arms (Raiden says she’s _Sunny_ and neither of them know where or who that name comes from), still amused at the way Snake continues rattling off similar features like she’s related to them. 

But her face is more innocent than both of theirs combined, with eyes full of hope, and when Otacon looks at her, suddenly he believes everything will turn out okay.

* * *

Sunny is rather fussy during car rides, they find out soon enough. 

~~Which is not particularly... _good_ considering the obligations for their kind of work.~~

But there’s nothing they can do about that. And it’s only when she’s in the car, so it’s not a big deal. 

She’s so cute, in her little shirt that’s striped like a candycane and her tufts of white hair collected into a short antennae that sprouts from the top of her head. Except it’s not really so cute, because her mouth is a wobbly frown, and tears are streaming down her chubby cheeks. 

Snake has a feeling that all the drives after this one will yield the same reaction out of her. No, he’s sure of it. 

Otacon is driving now, on a highway winding through plenty of tunnels that slice through mountains of Pennsylvania, so he’s in the back with Sunny, aimlessly trying too many things that fail to stop her crying. 

It must be the incline, or maybe the constant flashings of dark a light between tunnels and the outside, or something like that. 

He maybe knows a little less about this baby stuff than Otacon (who’s too sweet and sensitive, sometimes, though in all the right ways), but at least the attempt is there. He’s _trying_. And even if it takes a few more peekaboos or tummy tickling to calm Sunny down, then so be it. 

He’ll take this task tenfold over being a tool for the government or drinking himself to death alone in Alaska. 

The AC is blasting in the back row, so Sunny certainly can’t be too hot from the sun’s rays gleaming through the window. The radio is on low so it can’t possibly be too noisy. What is it, then? 

Shushing her gently and caressing her head had lessened the screaming, to the point where she was just sniffling and occasionally whining out cries. But there were still tears—and it was a sight that Snake found himself unable to bear. 

~~Who would’ve thought, huh?~~

“So, how are things?” Otacon sounds frazzled as he rolls his window down. “I mean, it’s sounding better than twenty minutes ago.”

Really, Snake would rather have him only focus on driving. “Just keep driving, and don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

“Fine, fine...”

The car turns a long curve in the road around a protruding cliff, and Sunny wails in her carseat. 

...Oh, are the belts too tight? Snake grabs the straps, messing with them quietly. If he loosens them too much, Otacon’ll see and probably—

“—Hey, are you unbuckling her?!”

Snake looks into the rearview mirror at his partner’s death glare. “Not _all_ the way, only a little bit...” 

“For what? You know, it’s dangerous if you make them too loose! She’s supposed to be secured in there, otherwise she’ll fly out!”

“You don’t have to lecture me about it, I just figured she was crying because the straps were too tight.”

“That’s ridiculous... Maybe she’s carsick; you should give her some medicine or something.”

“So we deal with all our problems by just knocking her out?”

“Snake, you know I don’t mean it that way! And really, we shouldn’t argue in front of...”

The two grow silent with realization, because somehow, baby Sunny is laughing and smiling.

* * *

They’ve settled into a manageable groove somewhere in the rolling hills of Tennessee. Their cabin sits on the side of one of the mountains and the road up there is so dangerous and steep at night that Otacon refuses to drive anywhere past 7pm. 

The fear is justified, but Snake—who’s lived in worse places and is used to climbing to his front door on foot—doesn’t understand it. Still, he’s more careful nowadays, because he has to remind himself that Sunny’s with them too. 

They can’t be so reckless when they’re responsible for another life now. 

~~Well, their lives are inherently risky, but they don’t need to add on to it unnecessarily.~~

It’s July, and the mountain air is humid and oppressive. It gets cooler at night, at least—but for now, just before sunset, there’s only crickets and the scent of pine. 

So they stay inside, Sunny sitting slouched on Otacon’s lap, one of his palms cupping her stomach securely and her back leaning against him. His hands have always been thin and maybe even a bit bony, especially compared to Snake’s calloused ones, but next to this baby they’re so big. 

Big and warm. 

These are the same hands that have crafted a bipedal nuclear weapon, and the same hands that couldn’t stop E.E. from bleeding to death, but now they’ll protect this tiny baby girl until the very end. 

“—We’re having mac and cheese tonight,” Snake announces from the kitchen, finally standing up after rooting around the fridge and cupboard for several minutes. (Several minutes of trying to decide which boxed meal he wasn’t feeling sick of just yet this week.)

“Sounds good,” Otacon calls back, because it has to be—not like they have many other options. Sunny, who’s been cooing happily while Otacon’s leg bounces her, begins sucking and teething on her fingers ravenously now. “Oh, and could you get out Sunny’s applesauce? I think she’s hungry, too.”

He’d prepare it himself, but Snake is adamant about not letting him within ten feet of the kitchen when he’s cooking, and only does so under very limited circumstances. Since he’d set off the fire alarms at multiple former hideouts, Otacon could never really blame Snake for that rule. 

“Heard.” The fridge door swings open, then squeaks shut again. “She’s definitely got my appetite and not yours.”

“Don’t get me started.” The sigh Otacon gives is so comically exaggerated that Snake lets out an unrestrained laugh as he tears open the macaroni box. “But I think babies are supposed to eat a lot, anyways. You know, with all the growing they do in such a short amount of time.”

Snake only grunts in response, beginning to boil a potful of water on the electric stove. 

Just an hour and a half ago, he had bottle-fed Sunny her formula, then burped her, and ever since she had been contently and lazily dozing while she sat on him.

Otacon pushes his laptop farther aside—which had been on the couch cushion next to him, still torrenting programs as fast as it could with the asinine internet connection they had—and flips Sunny around so she’s facing him. 

Those big, chocolate brown eyes look back up at him, wide and shining. It’s almost like she’s staring _into_ him rather than _at_ him—that spacey look that babies often have. Or so he‘s heard. 

Her onesie is in ladybug print, all red with black spots. It contrasts her silvery hair nicely. 

...And there’s spit on her hands and dripping down her chin, still. 

He’ll have to wipe that off with her bib before they start eating. 

For now, he cradles Sunny’s little body against his chest, her head and little hands resting atop his shoulder. 

For now, everything is alright.

**Author's Note:**

> [i’m on this stupid bird app](https://twitter.com/togeklssu)


End file.
